I came to the tables, stood there a moment squinting down at a scattering of indefinable shapes. “Sure you don’t want to turn on some lights--?”
“I’m sure.”
I began running my hands over the various appliances like a man reading brail. A filling station whiff of oil and solvents rose from the table. “Mitzi, do you know what a cargo compartment is?”
“I’m a vampire poodle, Ed, not a Borzoi.”
“A what?”
“Russian wolfhound.”
“I always thought they were kind of elegant-looking. Are they supposed to be stupid?”
“Mmm…not so much stupid as silly.”
“Silly?”
“Russian wolfhounds are the Jerry Lewis of canines, ask anyone.”
“No kidding.”
“Right up there with Pekinese and chipmunks.”
“Ever known any personally?”
“Alicia brought a Russian man home for dinner once. That was close enough.”
“Fascinating. Listen, would you happen to recognize a cargo compartment lock latch for a vintage DC-9 if you saw one?”
“Is that what you’re looking for?”
“I would be, if I could see in the dark. Hint-hint.”
“Sorry, doesn’t sound familiar.” She stood on her back legs, paws up on the table, nose twitching, eyes darting. “But I know how to find one.”
I turned to her. “Do you?”
She trotted away from me to the plane and disappeared under the belly of the aircraft. Wet nose quivering against cold metal, she began sniffing her way toward the tail section. In a moment she was trotting back. “Got it.”
“--I don’t.”
“Elementary, my dear Edward. One merely sniffs around the cargo hatch until one locates the lock. Then one sniffs the lock. After one locates the lock, one returns to the mechanic’s supplies and sniffs for the latch, which one will find smells exactly like the lock.”
“That’s what one finds, huh?”
“And here it is!” She picked up a short length of something in her teeth. Bright aluminum shaped like a ratchet and handle.
I took it from her, turned it in my hand. “I thought perhaps after one found the latch one might unlock the hatch with it.”
“Don’t press your luck, Eddie, I haven’t even agreed to climb aboard this flying bordello. And what’s the point in gaining access to the cargo bay anyway?”
I strode to the craft, bent under and began feeling around the belly. “I can’t find it. Can’t even feel it.”
“Over here.”
I moved toward the dog. My skimming fingers fell over a metal nub. “Ah!”
“You were saying?”
I inserted the latch, began tugging. “Well, if this cargo compartment is like the one in the movies, it should open another hatch inside that in the floor of the airplane.”
“The movies!”
“Best I could come up with, sweetie.”
The poodle groaned. “Will we need another latch for that one too?”
“God, I hope not.”
Three twists and the cargo door came away from the jet’s belly on silent hinges.
“How’m I doin?” I winked.
I ducked under and stood up inside the metal cavity. “Dark in here.”
“What a surprise. May I ask a question?”
“Please.”
“We get safely into the plane through the cargo compartment, right? Because caliph and company haven’t arrived yet.”
“Right.”
“Then—a few minutes from now, in fact—caliph and company do arrive to board the plane, hopefully with Clancy in tow.”
“That’s it.”
“Uh-huh. And we say what to Al Mansur when he and his gorillas find us—‘Praise Allah’?”
“They aren’t going to find us, Mitz.”
“If you say we’re hiding in the toilet—“
“No. Of course not. They might find us there right away there.”
“Right. So where are we hiding when they come aboard?”
“The cargo compartment.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment.
I finally bent down out of the compartment and turned to her. “What--?”
She stood there like she was accessing a mental patient. “The caliph’s cargo, Ed. Where do his men put it?”
I coughed into my fist. “Okay…” I held up a finger, “admittedly this is the tricky part…”
“I’m listening.”
“Okay. Hopefully there won’t be any cargo.”
Mitzi just stood there. “Tell me I didn’t just hear that. This is your plan?”
“It is,” I shoved out my chin, “unless you’ve got a better one.”
“Yeah! I do! Wanna hear it?”
“Mitzi—“
“We hide behind those oil barrels over there, and when they come in we bushwhack their swarthy asses! Then we grab Clancy and get-eth the hell out of here!”
I shook my weary head. “Too risky. Sure, we might be able to take two or even three of them, but never five.”
“And how do you know there’ll be exactly five!”
“Because I was at the gallery show with the caliph and I counted his entourage. Four goons. Five including Al Mansur.”
“Five. vampires, Ed!”
“I’ve…picked up some tricks myself recently.”
“Tricks! Really? And what about the pilot?”
“Hopefully he’ll be behind the yolk, warming up Hef’s big Pratt Whitney engines.”
“And this is your plan?”
“Best I could—“
“Eddie, it won’t work! They’ll at least have luggage with them! Even with carry-on they’ll bring suitcases, luggage, paraphernalia…couple of atom bombs!”
“Mansur’s in the oil business.”
“He’s not going to put newly won prize Clancy on board without at least a few days’ clothes!”
“I figure the minute he touches down at the Baghdad Airport he’ll have her covered head to toe in one of those…shitskas, or whatever it is the women hide themselves under.”
“Shitska’s a Yiddish word, and I’m still not convinced someone won’t open that cargo hatch!”
I had straightened up inside the compartment, played a beam of light around the interior with a flashlight I’d stolen from the mechanic’s bench. “I’m not either, not completely. But there’s lots of space in here, Mitzi! If we squeeze way back into a corner and throw one of those tarps over us, we might just get away with it in this darkness!”
I shone the light over my watch. “It’ll be dawn in an hour. I’m guessing all the passengers except Clancy will be asleep before the plane takes off, like good little vampires.”
“Including the pilot? Who flies the plane?”
I looked around the compartment a final time. “I’m also guessing the pilot is the one other passenger who’s not a vampire. Either a human hostage like Clancy or someone they paid off, or both.”
“And if we pop out of the floor and they’re not asleep? What then? Smile and tell them there’s six more weeks of winter?”
My head hurt. I rubbed absently at the bridge of my nose. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“Lot of guessing in this plan, Ed.”
“I know that. It isn’t perfect. How can it be? But at least we’ll have the element of surprise.”
Mitzi went quiet again outside the aircraft.
I ducked out again, came up from under and looked at her.
She was sitting on her haunches, head turned away. Gazing at the back of the hanger--the door we just entered by.
“Mitzi. Listen. You don’t have to do this...”
“Don’t.”
“I mean it. I wouldn’t mind at all if you took off right now--while you can--maybe dropped by The Towers and checked on Sylvie. I’m worried about her.”
“I’m worried about you. I’m already a vampire.”
I took a deep breath. Could think of nothing else to say.
Mitzi sat there quietly a moment. “So you pretty much figured all along this was a suicide mission.”
I tossed up my hands. “As opposed to a living-death for Clancy if we don’t even try?”
The poodle glanced back at the door again, then turned and trotted toward me. “Too late anyway…”
“What?”
“Can’t you hear that? An airport limo. They’re here…”
TWENTY-TWO
We sat crammed on top of each other in the deepest, darkest corner of the cargo compartment, covered by an oil-pungent hanger tarp.
Mitzi’s neck fur kept tickling my nose.
I had to whisper.
“Say what you will about Lava, old girl, you never smelled better.”
“You, on the other hand, could definitely use a shower.”
“I was on a tight schedule getting here.”
“Yeah? How tight was the bountiful Ms. Sylvie?”
“Hey. Watch your mouth.”
“I can smell her, Eddie…”
I shrank deeper into the hard metal corner. “That is so totally gross. And if you ever breathe a word of that to Clancy—“
“Don’t be stupid. Anyway, it was bound to happen, the way she kept—“
I twisted into a slightly less painful position. “What’s the matter?”
“Footsteps. You can’t hear them?”
“No.”
“Now?”
“No.”
“Now?”
“Yes. A little. How many do you think?”
“Give me a moment…”
I scrunched higher, grimacing between fuselage and dog. “Your back claw is in my groin!”
“Sh!”
I could hear the echo of distant voices now over the footfalls. I thought I detected the caliph in there somewhere.
“Mitz?”
“Looks like you were right…sound like just five of them. Damn! They’re coming straight for the cargo compartment!”
“Wait a second--you said five? Wouldn’t there be six counting Clancy?”
“Keep quiet a moment! Don’t say a word! They’re right on top of us!”
The echo of footsteps now sounded like the herd of clopping cattle.
I squeezed down and held my breath.
Any second now the cargo hatch would fly up, our outlined forms under the tarp illuminated by bright interior hanger lighting.
I turned my head the wrong way and caught a nose-full of Mitzi’s hair in my nostrils. I felt the sneeze building quickly, tried to cover my face but couldn’t get my hand up in that position.
“Shit!” I whispered.
“Sh!”
“I’m going to sneeze!”
“The hell you are!”
I sneezed.
The cattle clopping stopped.
The ensuing silence was thunderous.
Then I heard the click at the cargo lock.
“Goddamnit!”
Voices outside, right beside us.
I think it was the caliph again. Then one of his guards grunting something back.
Then the clopping was moving away from us.
I let out a lungful of long-pent-up breath. “Jesus, Joseph and Mary.”
Mitzi sighed relief beside me. “Past the first hurdle.”
As the footsteps receded, I pulled down the tarp, wormed my way to the hatch door and pressed my ear to it. “I still can’t hear anything like a woman’s heels! And wouldn’t Mansur have her dressed to the nines?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what? You can hear her footsteps or he’d have her dressed to the nines?”
“He’d have her dressed to the nines.”
I turned to Mitzi in a panic. “He didn’t bring her!”
Mitzi was silent.
“He’s left her in Chicago! Oh, Christ, he’s had her killed!”
“Keep your voice down, they’re not aboard the plane yet…”
“Why the hell wouldn’t he bring her, Mitz?”
“Take it easy. We don’t know that. Lot of shuffling echoes out there, Ed, all mushed together.”
“But you didn’t hear her! Did you?”
“Doesn’t mean a thing. He might have drugged her for the trip to prevent her from struggling. One of his thugs might be carrying her.”
I found my breath again. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“You think too much as it is. Listen!”
“What is it?”
“Mansur’s opening the starboard door, hear that?”
“No.”
“They’re climbing the stairs. Stepping aboard now. Can you hear that?”
“I can feel the vibration.”
Silence for a moment.
“Okay, they’re closing the door. Now they’re—“
“Yeah, I can hear now…they’re moving about the cabin.”
“All right, you can turn on your flashlight now, doesn’t matter if any beams leak through the seams.”
I clicked on the light, aimed it immediately at the ceiling. The hatch lever was already there, mounted into a concave circle of grey metal. All I needed to do was pull it.
“Yes, but don’t yet, okay? They’re still moving around up there, getting settled.”
“For bed, hopefully.”
“What time is it?”
I checked my watch. “Past five?”
“And you heard the caliph say take-off was when?”
“About ten minutes from now. But it’s a private jet, they can leave anytime they want, I guess.”
“No, they’re in a major American airport, the pilot will have registered a flight plan, will have to wait for clearance from the tower like everyone else.”
There was a high metallic whine that sounded right on top of us, then a sudden earthquake shudder shook the compartment.
“What the hell!” I shone the light on Mitzi. “Was that the engines already?”
She sniffed the air calmly. “He has to warm them up, Eddie, taxi out of the hanger onto whichever runway they’re assigned. It’ll take a few minutes.”
“Hopefully enough minutes for the vampires to retire for the day.”
“If they do retire…”
I watched her with alarm.
“They’re inside a closed plane, Eddie, the morning sun can’t get to them.”
“The windows—“
“All have those plastic shutters, remember?”
“You really think—“
“It doesn’t matter what I think, only what they think. I do know vampires must sleep at least part of the time during daylight hours.”
“What happens if they don’t?”
The poodle sniffed curiously at the ceiling latch. “They have bio-rhythms not unlike humans, which means they suffer from sleep deprivation just like humans.”
“Some humans work the graveyard shift, you should excuse the expression.”
Mitzi sniffed the latch. “Not as successfully as you might think. Most mammals have some biological connection with the Earth’s rotation, its passages from light to dark, the effects solar energy have on it. Dogs and horses and even some fish sleep at night just like people. Did you think it was controlled by corporate hours?”
“How’d you get so smart?”
“I read. Or Alicia read, anyway. Don’t worry. They’ll go to sleep up there somewhere between here and Baghdad…the only question is when.”
“And if their sleep is deep enough that our stealing Clancy won’t awaken them.”
Mitzi shook her head. “That shouldn’t be a problem. Vampires are far more torpid in sleep than humans. Once they go down, they’re usually out until sundown. It’s in their DNA or something. By the way, you’ll be glad to know Clancy’s definitely aboard the plane. I can smell her perfume.”
“Thank God.”
The compartment jolted and I felt a twinge in my stomach. “We’re moving…”
“Yep. On the wa
y to the runway. Pray that we’re stacked. O’Hara Field is famous for its delayed flights.”
“Why do you keep sniffing that latch?”
“Just curious.”
I felt the big plane’s wheels bump, heard the powerful engine whine take on a different, less head-throbbing tone.
“We’re out of the hanger,” Mitzi said.
There was almost enough height to the compartment for me to stand up straight. I turned my head and pressed an ear to the cabin floor above. “I don’t hear anybody walking around…”
Mitzi sat there intently. “Me either. Or voices. But it’s hard to be sure above the sound of those engines.”
I nearly lost my footing as the plane listed to port, caught myself on a ceiling beam. “What was that?”
“Not sure. We may be lining up at the runway…”
“Already?”
“Possibly. Maybe the pilot’s not using one of the commercial runways despite the size of this thing…maybe they assigned him a private one.”
My heart fluttered. “Which means less chance of stacking, right?”
“I’d think so.”
“Great. Do you hear any movement, any voices?”
“No, but I can’t guarantee they’re all asleep.”
I sat crouched there in the jostling compartment feeling the insect tickle of sweat down my backs. “I’m going to try the latch. Mitzi--?”
“Okay, but slowly. When it comes free, open the hatch gently, just an inch…and try to peer down the aisle, see if you spot anyone.”
“Right.” I straightened again, bracing my sea legs, got hold of the ceiling latch with both hands and began to pull.
Nothing happened.
“It not opening!”
“Are you sure you’re turning it the right way?”
“I’m turning counter clock-wise!”
“That should be the right way.”
“Well, it’s not even moving!”
Mitzi craned upward, body straining. “Do you see any secondary latches or release buttons around the perimeter?”
“No! The damn thing’s just stuck!”
“Huh. Try turning it clock-wise.”
“Well, which way is it, goddamnit?”
“Do I look like an aviation expert? Just turn the damn thing!”
I put my shoulder into it, pulled hard with both hands. Even with my extra strength I couldn’t budge it.
“It’s stuck fast, Mitzi!”
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